Mistake
by Misterfleas
Summary: "What's a nice way of saying, "You fell asleep, and I got bored, so I made out with your brother?" Prussia, Romano, Italy, and Germany...
1. Remember and Regret

Working title: Mistake

Pairing(s): Prussia x Italy (the "mistake"), Prussia x Romano with a side of Germany x Italy

Rating: M for good reason!

AN: This is my first fanfiction in a long time. First Prumano. First GerIta. First time *attempting*... a M rated story, fanfic or not. A lot of firsts. I apologize for OOC-ness; it was unintentional, but necessary.

Warning(s): Personified countries, swearing, yaoi (boyXboy), sexual innuendo_. _There _is_ a lemon_._

Disclaimer: This story stems from text message 865 on TFLN. It was not my text, nor did I receive it. (But...but, it was inspirational)! In addition, Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya

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**Chapter 1: Remember and Regret**

Prussia was usually not a shy nation. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he never had a problem with spilling even the most intimate secrets about himself. But this time was different. He screwed up. Bad.

He knew this instantly when he woke up. He was on the couch in the Italy's home. This was not unusual, or even unexpected really. No. The problem was, the wrong Italian was lying on top of him. Had they fallen asleep like this?

Prussia tried to remember everything that happened last night. He paled at the thought, which probably made him look like death since he was already insanely pale to begin with. Holding his breath, he gently roused the Italian curled asleep on his chest.

"No no, Germany...five more minutes Ve~" Italy protested.

"Feliciano, vake up." Prussia whispered tersely, "Your bruder vill be up soon! Do you vant him to see us like this?"

Prussia waited impatiently for Italy to notice that the two of them were scantily dressed and curled together on his couch. But, sure enough, the sleepy Italian jerked in surprise and scrambled off of Prussia.

"Gi...Gilbert, what?" he exclaimed stupidly.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me you don't know how ve ended up like this!" Prussia snapped, as he sat up. He quickly stood from the couch and snatched his boxers off of the ground.

"Oh..." Italy said suddenly, "_Oh!_"

"So you _do_ remember?" Prussia responded sarcastically as he yanked on his jeans and located his T-shirt.

As mean as he was being to the still-naked Italian, Prussia almost felt sorry as the man began to cry. _Almost._

"Ludwig will hate me!" Italy sobbed.

"Don't be thick." Prussia scoffed, "He'll blame me, of course. And so vill your- Stupid. Irritating.- sexy brother!"

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Prussia sent the sobbing Italy to take a shower so that he could concentrate. How had he let something like this happen? He had been drinking last night, sure, but that was no different from any other night. He had been needy too. Yep. That definitely contributed to the situation. And damn it all, Romano had been "too tired for _that_."

"No excuse." Prussia muttered to himself. He fished his phone out of the pocket of his jeans and scrolled through his friends list. He needed advice, fast. Usually, in a situation like this, he'd send his brother a message. But this was different; Germany would _not_ be pleased. His second choice was usually Spain, however, this was also a bad idea. He had a feeling that, if he did, Spain would finally have a reason to take his old battle axe out of storage.

_France._ Prussia decided. He opened a blank text message and pressed the keys lightly. When he was finished, the message read, "What's a nice way of saying, "You fell asleep, and I got bored, so I made out with your brother?" Prussia pressed send before he could change his mind. Then he could do nothing but wait. And wait. And wait.

What seemed like hours to Prussia was, in reality, no more than a few seconds. Before his brain registered what was happening, his phone was vibrating. Prussia fumbled with it and answered quickly, "Ja?" he asked. He'd answered so fast that he'd forgotten to check the caller ID. Luckily though, it was France.

"Ah hon hon! Someone 'ad an interesting night!" France chuckled on the other line.

"S..shut up, Francis!" Gilbert spluttered.

"Oh?' France replied in mock hurt, "I thought you wanted me to give you some advice? Non? Well, good bye then, Gil-"

"No vait!" Prussia exclaimed, "Vhat should I do..."

Prussia waited for France to answer, but the bastard was taking his time. He was about to hang up on the infuriating Frenchman when he finally did speak up.

"First tell me what 'appened." France demanded, "Every last detail."

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End note: I'm sorry it sucks! TT_TT I promise that the next chapter will be more interesting, if not considerably better.


	2. Mistake

A/N: This chapter is a flashback. i.e. This is more or less what Prussia is remembering while telling France over the phone what happened last night...

In detail. In addition, this chapter is much longer than the first and contains... dirty things.

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**Chapter 2: Mistake**

Dinner had been fantastic as always. Italy and Romano always made the best pizzas. Prussia felt like his night was complete...almost.

"Lovi~" Prussia called from Romano's bed.

The cranky Italian stomped out of the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth, and placed his hands on his hips in a way that made him look absolutely adorable. To Prussia at least... and possibly Spain, had he been there.

"What!" Romano complained, scowling in his usual way.

"Come to bed~" Prussia whined, in his usual way.

"I'm brushing my teeth, dammit!" Romano exclaimed, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth to make it easier to yell.

Prussia smirked as he slipped off of the bed and sauntered over to Romano. The little Italian man just scowled at him accusingly. Prussia lunged for him suddenly, trapping Romano against the door jam, and leaned down for a kiss. He only tasted the faintest hint of mint toothpaste before Romano stomped on his foot. Hard.

"Ouch!" Prussia complained, releasing the Italian from his grip in confusion.

"Not tonight, Potato bastard!" Romano snapped.

"But, Lovi~" Prussia protested, "I only vanted a kiss!"

"Well I had a long day today. Damn Mafia." Romano scoffed, walking over to the sink to rinse out both his toothbrush and his mouth. Once he was done, he turned back towards the now dejected looking Prussian standing in the doorway.

"_I_ _only vant_ to go to bed." Romano declared, imitating the Prussian's accent.

Prussia had to agree that the little Italian did indeed look tired, "But-" he tried anyway.

"But nothing." Romano interrupted, poking Prussia hard in the chest, "If you can't behave, then you'll have to sleep on the couch!"

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And since Prussia couldn't behave himself, he soon found himself sitting on the Italian's sofa. He flipped through channels on the television, but nothing interesting was on. Prussia sighed and lay on the couch to try and sleep, but it was no use. It wasn't all that late, and he wasn't even tired. Prussia decided he was hungry so he went to the kitchen to find a snack.

The first thing that Prussia noticed when he walked into the Italian's kitchen, was that he was not the only one awake. Italy was sitting at the table eating a slice of German Chocolate cake; one that Germany himself had baked, no doubt. The second thing he noticed was that there was a large bottle of Barolo on the table. Bottle, but no glass. Then, he noticed that Italy was crying. Prussia faltered. Italy had not seen him so he could still make his escape, but his inner conscious got the best of him. He cleared his throat to let Italy know that he was there. Italy looked up at him, blinking tears from his eyes.

"Italy..." Prussia began awkwardly, "Vhat is vrong?"

"L...Ludwig made'a me a cake, see?" Italy tried to smile through his tears, but Prussia wasn't fooled.

"Ja. I can see that," he replied, rolling his eyes, "Surely that isn't vhy you are crying."

"Luddy came'a home early from his meeting." Italy sobbed, "But he said he needed to rest and he couldn't hang out with me because I'm too annoying right now!"

Prussia clenched his teeth in annoyance. He could see exactly why Ludwig would need a break away from Italy every once in a while, "That arschloch! He knew I'd be here tonight." He grumbled under his breath, making a mental note to pay Germany back for this somehow.

"What?" Italy asked, tipping his head to the side in confusion.

"Er...vhy don't you come vatch a movie with me, und tomorrow I vill call Vest for you." Prussia replied, saying the first thing that popped into his head. He sure hoped that Italy wasn't the annoying type that talked consistently through a movie.

"Really?" Italy asked stupidly, "You want to watch a movie with me?"

Prussia wanted to say 'hell no!' but the stupid dummkopf looked so freakin' happy that he just couldn't. Plus, he'd stopped the annoying waterworks.

"Ja." Prussia forced himself to sound eager as he answered, sporting an equally forced smile. And he found him self wishing for the thousandth time that Romano hadn't been so tired and cranky. Gottverdammt Mafia!

"Ve~ What do you want to watch?" Italy asked.

At least the idiot was smiling again; he must be bi-polar.

"I don't care," Prussia said offhandedly, "You pick something."

That was Prussia's first mistake this night.

He soon found himself seated back on the couch. He tried not to think too hard as Italy chose a movie and popped it into the DVD player. He didn't know what he had expected when Italy sat beside him on the couch. He'd have thought that the whiney Italian would have put in a cartoon or a sappy romance or something. He was so wrong. He stared at the screen in surprise, mouth hanging open, as one of Germany's favorite war movies came on the television screen... in the original German.

"Ve~?" Italy sounded a bit distressed, so Prussia looked over at him. He jumped back as the man had his eyes open and was staring right at him.

"V...vhy are you staring!" Prussia snapped, blushing in a way that was totally unnatural for him.

"Do you not like 'Hunde, wollt ihr ewig leben,' Gilbert?" Italy asked, frowning slightly.

"That's not it, dummkopf." Prussia recovered, "I vas just surprised is all. I thought you'd vant to vatch Spongebob or Emeril Live or something."

"Oh... I don't have any Emeril DVD's, but we can watch 'The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie' if you want!" Italy said cheerfully, smiling again.

That smile bothered him. It was so... big. Romano never smiled like that.

"Never mind. This is fine." Prussia sighed, gritting his teeth in irritation.

The two of them sat quietly for a moment. Prussia was staring at the screen but, as he'd seen this movie at least a hundred times, he wasn't really watching. In fact, he was just starting to doze off when Italy made a sound that caused Prussia to blush uncharacteristically for the second time that night. His body went rigid and he used his peripheral vision to chance a glance at Italy. The young Italian was sitting with his legs curled to his chest; that was not unusual. And then Prussia noticed exactly what the little arschloch was doing. He actually turned his head to look at Italy better at this point. The Italian man's fingers were gently stroking and twirling around the long curl of hair that both brother's shared.

Prussia swallowed hard. Seeing Italy like that made Prussia want to do it for him. Had it been Romano, he would have without hesitation, whether the cranky bastard wanted him to or not. Prussia tried to concentrate on the movie and block Italy and his tempting sounds out. But it was useless. Italy by nature was not a quiet person.

Prussia was hard. He knew he couldn't help it, but it made him feel ashamed of himself. Gottverdammt Italy! No one made the awesome Prussia feel like this!

Prussia stood very suddenly, every intention to go to the bathroom and take care of..._that. _He was not very subtle about it, however, so of course it caught the Italian's attention. Gilbert watched the Italian look at his face and then saw the boy's eyes drawn to the front of his rapidly tightening pants.

"Ve~ Gilbert." Italy said, not bothering to hide the lust in his voice. Horny bastard!

"You're hard down there." Italy continued, looking at Gilbert with a face that he'd certainly never seen the annoying nation make. It was sexy. It was seduction.

Prussia stiffened as Italy slid off the couch in an enticing manner and sauntered over to him. His face held no trace of the innocent crybaby that Prussia was used to. Is this what West saw in the boy?

"F...Feli- _ah_," Prussia's eyes glazed over as the Italia grabbed at the front of his pants, none to gently, "S..stop!" Prussia demanded, but his voice was weak. Hollow.

"Hmm?" Italy frowned in a way that reminded Prussia of Romano. It was damn sexy. Through all his protests, he never once tried to push the boy off of him. He made no resistance as Italy pushed him on to the couch. Prussia wanted to kick himself. Why was he allowing this?

"You want this, Sí?" Italy purred.

Prussia's voice stuck in his throat. He could feel the Italian undoing the front of his jeans. The boy had magic fingers.

"N...no!" Prussia protested, "N...not from you!"

"But Lovi is asleep," Italy pointed out, magic fingers tracing along Prussia's quivering member through his boxers, "And you _so_ need this."

Prussia's head swam with pleasure. Why did Italy have to be so good at this?

Italy's face was so close to his own at this point, that Prussia could smell the wine on his breath. Was he drunk? How had Prussia not noticed that before?

"Feliciano," Prussia said with some difficulty, "Exactly how much did you have to drink before I valked into the kitchen?"

"Not much." Italy said, hand tightening on Prussia's erection painfully.

Prussia let out a hiss of pain and bucked in spite of himself. Gottverdammt Italy and his Gottverdammt magic fingers!

Italy smirked. Prussia stared at the foreign look on his face; it didn't look like it belonged there. No wonder Germany kept the annoying nation around. It was obvious that Italy was a completely different person in this sort of situation. Prussia watched through narrowed eyes as the little Italian sat up and carefully and deliberately began to unbutton the front of his night shirt. His skin was slightly paler that Romano's, cream rather than coffee. Not as pretty, Prussia decided, but the younger Italian was surprisingly more fit than his older brother. Gottverdammt Germany and his Gottverdammt training! Prussia was definitely getting him back for this!

Prussia watched Italy drop his shirt off the side of the couch and stare at him hungrily. Then Italy lunged forwards, much like Prussia himself had done earlier, and yanked his T-shirt off over his head before he could protest.

"Now... where were we?" Italy was smirking again as he traced his finger up the Prussian's chest and around his nipples. Prussia shut his eyes. He was not used to being in this sort of position. With Romano, he was always on top. With Italy, he felt the urge to submit.

Suddenly he felt the Italian's mouth on his own, and his eyes snapped open. Italy's tongue glided across Prussia's upper lip, requesting access. Prussia did not oblige. He would not.

"_Ah!_" Prussia gasped in the most maddening little way as Italy's magic fingers tightened around him again. And with that, the Gottverdammt Italy got what he wanted.

It was the best kiss Prussia had ever received. Romano didn't kiss like that.

Of course, Prussia conceded, he usually did all the work.

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End Note:

That. Was. The. Most. Embarrassing. Thing. I. ever. Wrote.

I hope you enjoyed it though. I won't deny that I am am a little upset with this so far. First of all this is supposed to be Prumano and so far it's all Prussia and Italy. But, well, France wanted details!

Second of all. I've always refused to read anything with Prussia and Italy because the thought of it made me sad... and here I am writing it! I'm such a hypocrite! TT_TT

I think this chapter was better than the first, though.

P.S. Sorry for Seme!Italy and Uke!Prussia. It had to be done.


	3. Tension

A/N: This is really more of a filler chapter, but it's necessary to the story...

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**Chapter 3: Tension **

"You lied to me."

It took Prussia a moment to realize that it was France he was hearing. He had forgotten that the Frenchman was listening, "Vhat?" Prussia snapped in irritation.

"Calm down, mon ami." France said in an offhand way. Prussia could almost hear the hand gestures he knew his French friend was making.

"I merely meant that I misunderstood your text message." France continued.

Prussia was silent, waiting for France to explain. He heard the Frenchman sigh before continuing, "Just tell your Lovino the truth." France replied, "Everything you told me, but, perhaps without the details. 'e will understand."

"No vay vill that vork!" Prussia protested, "He'll kill me before I get a chance to explain!"

"Explain what?"

Prussia jumped. He clicked the end button on his phone and turned around slowly, "Lovi~ I didn't know you vere avake!" he exclaimed, hiding his discomfort with a smile.

Romano frowned, eyes narrowed, "Don't change the subject. Who were you talking to just now?"

Prussia considered lying, but Romano could always take his phone and check if he didn't believe him, "Francis..." He answered carefully.

"Why were you talking to that bastard so early in the morning!" Romano bellowed in a voice that was really too loud for this early in the morning.

"He called me." Prussia shrugged, wishing he'd deleted that text message from his sent file.

"Whatever," Romano decided, "I'm hungry, where's fratello?"

Prussia suppressed his triumph that Romano let the subject drop; he wasn't ready to deal with this problem; especially before breakfast.

"He vent to take a shower." Prussia told him.

"Whaaat?" Romano fumed, "It's his turn to make breakfast!"

Prussia just smiled. This was his fault, after all, so he'd best appease to his tetchy Italian.

"Lovi, vhy don't ve just go out to eat, instead?" he suggested.

Romano scowled for a moment an then, to Prussia's relief, nodded in agreement, "But you're buying!" he ordered with a mighty fine pout.

"Of course, of course." Prussia soothed, "Let's vait for Feliciano, Ja?"

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It wasn't long until Prussia and the two Italy's were seated at their favorite breakfast joint. The only problem was, it was too damn quiet. On a normal day, you couldn't get Italy to shut up. Usually his incessant talking annoyed Romano, but Prussia could tell that this quiet Italy was annoying him more.

"Feli, _what_ is your problem?" Romano demanded huffily as their waitress scurried off to fill their orders.

Prussia hoped to Gott that Italy wasn't dumb enough to tell his brother what was bothering him... Not here. In public. In his favorite restaurant.

Italy shook his head, eyes filling with tears, and mumbled something incoherently. Prussia held his breath; so far, so good.

"Feliciano." Romano hissed though his teeth, demanding obedience, "Don't have a fit here."

"M..mi dispiace." Italy sobbed into the tablecloth.

Butterflies zipped around Prussia's stomach as he watched the scene unfold before him. Unlike the increasingly irritated looking Romano, he could hear the double apology in Italy's voice.

"Whatever." Romano scoffed, "Just shut'a up, would you?"

Luckily for Prussia, Romano didn't have to tell him twice. Italy reverted back the quiet mopey self he'd been before his brother had confronted him. Prussia let out a breath he'd forgotten he was holding in.

"And you. What's up with you?" Romano asked sharply.

It took Prussia a moment to realize that the older Italian was now talking to him.

"Oh, uh, just something Francis said..." Prussia said; not a complete lie.

Romano looked like he was about to yell at him, but just then the Waitress returned with their order. Romano seemed to instantly forget his earlier frustrations with Prussia and Italy as she set his favorite Tomato and Cheese Omelet- sans cheese, extra tomatoes- down in front of him. Prussia tried to enjoy his stack of gourmet pancakes, but he just couldn't. He forced the food down without much gusto, not enjoying it at all, just eating it to keep Romano from being overly suspicious.

After breakfast, Prussia paid for the meal and the three of them left the restaurant. Italy waved goodbye and got into a taxi saying something about a meeting.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Prussia asked.

Romano sighed, "I have to work today, Potato head."

"Oh." Prussia tried to sound bummed; truthfully, this had been exactly what he wanted to hear. He needed a little more time to decide how he was going to tell Romano. He had briefly thought about keeping the whole thing a secret and never telling a soul, but he had to admit to himself that just would not work. He couldn't trust Italy to keep his stupid mouth shut, and he didn't like lying to Romano.

"Don't be like that," Romano scoffed, "I have next week off. We can do whatever you want, then."

Prussia's eyes lit up at that. He had forgotten about Romano's week off. This was perfect. What a good excuse!

"I'm going to spend all day planning for next veek!" he exclaimed cheerfully.

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A little less than three hours later Prussia was standing at his own front door. Well technically, he conceded, it was Germany's door as much as it was his. He reached for the knob, and was miffed to find out that it was locked. Prussia cursed under his breath and dove into his pocket for his keys... but he must have left them at the Italy's house because they weren't there. Prussia banged on the door.

"Vest!" he called loudly, "Let me in, dammit!"

Prussia tapped his foot impatiently and was about to bang on the door again when a very angry looking Germany answered the door. Normally, the expression on his brother's face wouldn't have fazed him in the slightest. But today was different. A very tearful Italy was clutching the back of Germany's button down.

Germany and Prussia stared at each other for a moment, then Prussia's flight response kicked in. Unfortunately, Germany was faster. Prussia felt his brother's fingers grab the back of his collar, and soon found himself in a headlock. He struggled vainly to escape, but Germany didn't waver.

"N...no! Ludwig! Don't hurt Gilbert!" Italy begged from somewhere closely.

"Gilbert, quit struggling." Germany ordered, seemingly ignoring the Italian.

Prussia by no means was going to submit and allow his little bruder to drag him inside and do Gott knows what to him! If anything he struggled harder, digging his fingernails into the arm around his neck and trying to land a kick in his brother's vital regions.

"Bruder, please!" Germany said, "I don't vant to hurt you-"

"Don't you?" Prussia shouted, cutting him off.

He felt Germany's grip loosen slightly and gave an almighty tug, trying to get free. Big mistake. Prussia was suddenly slammed headfirst onto the porch steps; he felt his bruder's knee digging into his lower back; his right arm was twisted painfully behind his back as well. Prussia had the wind knocked out of him.

"- but I vill if I have too." Germany completed the sentence for Prussia's benefit.

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"Scheiße, that stings!" Prussia complained.

"Quit moving," Germany snapped, "You don't vant it in your eye!"

Prussia was seated at the kitchen table with his bruder carefully cleaning out the cut he'd inflicted by slamming the former nation into the porch steps. Prussia clenched his teeth as he waited for his bruder to finish. He couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as Germany affixed the bandage and started repacking the first aid kit. He watched his bruder somewhat nervously; the Germanic nation had a very grim look on his face. At least Italy had stopped crying.

When he was finished, Germany looked up at his older bruder. Prussia waited for the younger nation to speak, as he was unsure how to proceed. In a way, Prussia was relieved that Germany knew what happened between he and Italy. Perhaps he could help Prussia figure out how to come clean to Romano.

"Did you tell Romano vhat happened?" Germany asked.

"V...vhat?" Prussia said stupidly.

He was surprised by the guilty look in his bruder's face. He was sure that Germany was going to try and blame this whole mess on him. Was Germany trying to blame himself for this mess? _Nein._ Prussia decided. He must be mistaken.

"Feliciano told me vhat happened," Germany sighed.

"Ja...?" Prussia prompted, instantly suspicious.

"My fault." Germany declared.

"Nein, impossible!" Prussia argued.

At the same time, Italy broke into near incoherent babble, "NoLudwig!Itoldyou! It'smyfault!I'msorry!Midispace!I'msorrrrryyyyyy!~"

"Calm down, Feliciano." Prussia and Germany said at the same time.

"It's my fault." Prussia conceded, "I should have pushed him off of me, or something..." But it was as if the other two nations hadn't even heard him.

"Nein." Germany disagreed, "If I hadn't kicked Feli out of the house, none of this vould have even happened."

"Idrankallthatwine!I'msorry!Midispace!" Italy wailed.

Prussia's eyebrow twitched in irritation.

"Who cares whose fucking fault it is!" he snapped, effectively silencing the two.

"What the hell am I supposed to tell Lovi?" Prussia asked more quietly, despair evident in his voice.

"The truth." Germany answered automatically.

"Oh yeah, that will work." Prussia scoffed, rolling his eyes; sarcasm was almost literary sloughing off of him in droves, "Oi Lovino!~ Last night after you went to bed I was _so_ bored that I couldn't even sleep. So I went to make a snack, and your bruder was in the kitchen crying into a slice of cake."

Germay winced at this, but Prussia hardly noticed and continued his sarcastic rant, "So we decided to watch a movie, but Feli was so drunk and horny that he started fucking molesting me on the couch. And then we made out for, like, two hours. But you're not mad, right?" Prussia finished in a flustered flurry of fury.

"A...alright, bruder. You made your point." Germany said carefully.

Prussia felt his anger ebb, but the dread remained; he formed fists in his hair painfully.

"Don't cry, Gilbert." Italy soothed; Prussia felt the Italian place a hand on his shoulder.

Prussia looked up in surprise. He hadn't realized that he was crying, but his vision was indeed blurry. He blinked the tears out of his eyes and stood, shaking Italy away.

"I... I'm going back to Italy." Prussia decided.

"You think that's a good idea?" Germany questioned.

Prussia shook his head, "I have to tell him sometime, and sooner rather than later vould be best." He sighed, "Either he'll listen...or he won't."

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Sorry for the lameness that is filler chapters. I did warn you. TT_TT

Anyways, I promise the next chapter will be strait Prumano, so that's something to look forward to, right? I'm surprised that I even got this chapter done today. I'm usually pretty slow when writing, fanfiction or no.


	4. Insults

**Chapter 4: Insults**

Prussia hesitated outside the door. The plane ride back was the longest he'd ever experienced; not to mention, he was going to have some serious jetlag after those trips to Germany and back. But he didn't have time to think about that right now. He'd noticed Romano's tomato red Ferrari in the driveway, and the Italian would definitely be wondering exactly why he had come home to an empty house.

Prussia raised his hand to knock, before realizing how stupid that would be. Instead, he flung the door open like he owned the place.

"Oi, Lovino~!" he called with false cheer.

Prussia shut the door behind him and walked a bit further into the house before the tomato-faced Romano stomped into the hall. Great. He was already angry.

"Where have you been, Potato Bastard!" Romano shouted at him.

"I...I vent back to Germany after you left." Prussia admitted.

"What!" Romano fumed, "I'm not spending my week off in Germany!"

"Wan?" Prussia asked, before he remembered that he told Romano he was spending the day preparing what they would do on his week off. He held his hands up to ward off the angry Italian.

"No, that's not what I... Ve can spend the veek doing vhatever you'd like." Prussia said, trying to appease the fiery Italian. He was certainly making a mess of things.

Romano did seem satisfied with the answer, as he let the subject drop. However, his scowl was as prominent as ever.

"What about Fratello, did he go with you?" Romano asked.

_Nein._ Prussia thought. Italy had arrived before him, and definitely on a different flight.

"Ja." He answered, "Feli stayed behind, though."

Romano's face turned red, and then he was blinking angry tears out of his eyes; he was really really upset.

"Don't cry Lovi," Prussia soothed, taking the shaking Italian into a crushing hug, "Feli just vanted us to be able to spend the veek together. And he knows you don't vant to go to Germany with me."

"I'm'a so hungry!" Romano sobbed.

Prussia sighed and tried very hard not to roll his eyes, "Vell, let's make dinner, then. I'll make you pasta!" he said with a smile.

"No." Romano said, looking up at Prussia with a frown, "You always overcook it! Soggy spaghetti is disgusting! Pasta is supposed to be al dente! Al dente!"

Prussia sighed, "Practice makes perfect?"

"I'll make the pasta." Romano grumbled before stalking off to the kitchen.

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Dinner was a quiet affair. Prussia still couldn't decide exactly how to tell Romano what he needed to tell him. He tried to enjoy his pasta as much as the Italian was, but that was hard to do on a normal day. To tell the truth, Prussia much preferred wurst and potatoes, but he would never say so around Romano. He heard Romano sigh and put down his fork, something the Italian never did halfway through a plate of spaghetti.

"Gilbert, why are you so quiet?" Romano asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Ah, I... I just." Gilbert struggled to form an articulate sentence, "Can't this vait 'till after dinner?"

"No," Romano said sternly, scowling. Something was going on, and he was determined to figure out what.

"I have something to tell you..." Prussia started, begging the words to form correctly in his brain before coming out of his mouth, "Last night... Feliciano and I..."

Romano's eyes narrowed; he did not like where this was going at all.

"Vell actually, I was bored and couldn't sleep... so I vent into the kitchen for a snack." Prussia tried again.

"But Feli was in there... and he was crying." Prussia continued.

Romano waited, somewhat impatiently. Italy crying in the kitchen was not an unusual event.

"So I invited him to vatch a movie with me, but he'd been drinking, and.." Prussia's throat constricted as he watched a vein threatening to burst on Romano's forehead.

"And Feli started... and I got up to go to the bathroom, but he stopped me-"

"You're not making any sense, you bastard, spit it out!" Romano snapped, interrupting Prussia's senseless rant.

"And then Feliciano... he touched me _there._" Gilbert spluttered, forgetting he was talking out loud, "And... we made out on the couch."

Gilbert had looked down at his hands twitching nervously on the table as he finished his confession. He was too afraid to look up at Romano now; afraid of the fiery Italian's wrath. Gilbert was fully prepared for the slew of screaming, swearing, and violent blows he was sure to receive. He was not prepared for this.

Gilbert sat very still; eyes shut tight, waiting for the inevitable. However, the sound that reached his ears was not yelling or screaming, or even swearing. Prussia opened his eyes to see that a very distraught look had come over Romano. The little Italian was crying pitifully, tears streaming down his face; biting his lip to keep himself from sobbing out loud.

"L... Lovino," Prussia said softly, Romano's pain mirrored in his voice.

"Shut up you stupid Potato Bastard!" Romano cried, "Alloco! Fessacchione! Faccia brutta!"

Prussia didn't need to know much Italian to know that Romano was insulting him. He just sat there silently and took it. He would have liked to walk around the table and comfort Romano like he usually did when the Italian got this upset, but he was the cause of this... and Romano would probably hit him if he tried. So, Prussia just sat silently while Romano cursed and insulted him in Italian, Spanish, English, French, German, and even some languages that Prussia didn't know.

When he was done shouting, Romano's face was tomato red and he was breathing like he had just run a marathon; tears were still streaming from his face. Likewise, Prussia was paler than ever, and his breathing had all but stopped. They both sat quietly for a long time after that.

After about ten minutes of silence, when Romano's breathing had returned to normal, the Italian looked up at Prussia. Prussia could see the pain etched into his tearstained face.

"Come here." Romano said evenly.

The Italian seemed calm enough now, but his expression was off somehow. Prussia stood slowly from his seat and walked over to Romano. He tensed as the Italian stood up and snaked his arms around the Prussian's neck. Prussia hesitated, but then wrapped his arms around Romano as well. He waited silently for the Italian to say something, as he was too keyed up to break the silence.

"Ti amo, you jerk!" Romano said with great certainly.

"Ich liebe dich." Prussia responded automatically, "I love you, too."

********************Misterfleas********************

Sorry that it took so long... and that it's so short and angsty! Dx

I really got very bad writers block while composing this chapter. I meant it to have more in it, but I was just having too many difficulties. This could be the last chapter as it pretty much concludes the story, but I think I'll write a little something something as an epilogue; since, I'm pretty sure you guys want to know how they spend Romano's week off.


	5. Epilogue

And the long awaited Epilogue is finally finished! I'm sorry it took so long, but I've never written anything like this before... ever. And I'm really not planning on do it again, either. It was really hard for me and completely out of my comfort zone. D:

I hope it doesn't sound too bad, or unrealistic... Enjoy?

xXxXx

Epilogue

Prussia learned very quickly that just because Romano had said that he still loved him did not mean that he was forgiven. It also didn't mean that he would be escaping punishment.

Prussia wasn't at all surprised when Romano made him clean up the dinner things by himself. He wasn't surprised when he was sent to the store to buy Romano's favorite gelato afterwards either. But Prussia was very surprised when the Italian ordered him into the bedroom instead of banishing him from the house, or to the couch at least. He knew instantly that something was going to go down that night, and he wasn't sure if it going to be pleasant.

"On the bed, Potato Bastard." Romano snapped.

Prussia complied wordlessly; expression blank. He watched Romano go to his closet and move the piles of clothes on the floor around until he found what he was looking for. He came back to bed holding probably the ugliest green and blue striped tie that Prussia had ever seen, and held it out to him.

"Put it on." Romano instructed.

Prussia gave him a questioning look, but accepted the hideous cloth and slipped it under the collar of his button down.

"No." Romano scolded impatiently, snatching it away again, "Like this."

Prussia stiffened as Romano roughly tied the tie around his head, covering his eyes like a blindfold. Even so, the knot was rather loose.

"L...Lovi?" Prussia asked questioningly.

Not being able to see was more than a little unnerving, especially with a violent type like Romano.

"Quit your quaking, bastard." Romano grumbled; Prussia felt the Italian begin to unbutton the front of his shirt with nimble fingers, "I'm not going to hurt you... much."

That... made Prussia feel better. He could do nothing but sit silently as Romano finished removing his shirt and pushed him down so that he was lying on his back on the bed. Prussia let the Italian do as he pleased without much resistance; he was intensely interested to find out what Romano had planned.

Romano suddenly crashed his lips into Prussia's, and the Prussian eagerly leaned into the kiss, fighting for dominance. Surprisingly, Romano was very forceful and nipped painfully at Prussia's bottom lip when he got too close to winning. Prussia sighed in discontent; it was blatantly obvious that Romano was not going to let him have his way tonight.

Romano seemingly ignored the Prussian's dissatisfaction and continued kissing along Prussia's jaw. The kisses trailed across his face, and the Italian nibbled on Prussia's ear almost playfully.

"Admit you like it, bastard." Romano whispered seductively; his warm breath tickling the Prussian's ear.

A shiver of pleasure glided down the Prussian's spine, making goosebumps appear on his arms despite the warmth of the room. No, not pleasure, Prussia decided. Was this how he made Romano feel? He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

"N..nein." Prussia managed, voice husky.

"Hmmm." Romano murmured disapprovingly.

Prussia suddenly felt Romano's hands in his hair, yanking his head back to suck on his neck. Prussia groaned in discomfort from the angle he was forced into, but made no attempts to stop the Italian at all, much like he'd done with Italy the night before. When Romano was finished, Prussia was sure that there was a huge bruise where the Italian's mouth had been.

Prussia felt the Romano's painter's fingers flitting down his chest until they brushed along the top of his jeans. The button was undone, and soon the Prussian found himself lifting his hips to help the Italian remove the offending clothing.

"Don't move." Romano warned.

Prussia lay still as instructed, but his heart sunk when he felt the Italian get off the bed. His uneasiness went up when Prussia heard the chink of Romano's belt. He fidgeted uncomfortably on the bed, wishing he could see what Romano was doing.

"Now roll over." Romano said gruffly.

Prussia panicked, "L...Lovi, you're not gonna... beat me, are you?" he asked with a bit of a whine. He was too hysterical to worry about the way his voice quavered and his lips trembled; Prussia's irrational fear of leather belts was getting to him.

"W...what?" Romano stammered suddenly, "Don't be stupid, Potato bastard! I wouldn't do that! Che palle!" he added, bite returning to his tone, "Now roll over before I change my mind, dammit!"

Prussia hesitated a moment longer and then rolled onto his stomach. He did not like this game. A moment later, he let out a strangled gasp as Romano suddenly grasped him by the ankles and pulled him halfway off of the bed so that his knees rested on the hard wooden floor.

"Now relax," Romano said, almost gently, "Or this is gonna hurt."

"Vhat are you - ehng." Prussia tensed as he felt Romano's finger tickle at his entrance. At that moment, Prussia screamed NO loudly in his head over and over again, but of course, he did nothing to stop Romano from proceeding. He whined loudly as the Italian pressed the finger inside of him. But at least, Prussia thought, Romano had had the decency to moisten his fingers before hand. When had he done that?

"Loosen up, bastard," Romano grumbled, "You're so tight."

"But it _hurts_!" Prussia whined.

"It'll hurt more if you don't loosen up!" Romano snapped, shoving the next finger in as well.

Prussia let out a very un-awesome scream, and tightened his grip on the bed sheets. It bothered him that Romano didn't seem to notice his pain or discomfort at all; the Italian was mercilessly stretching him out without a word. The Prussian's eyes were even beginning to tear up as yet another finger was added. Then, almost suddenly, the fingers were removed with a wet pop. Prussia felt something new brush his now prepared entrance.

"Ready, bastard?" Romano asked gruffly; it was impossible for the Prussian to miss the lust in his voice. Prussia just nodded wordlessly. He felt Romano's hands on his hips, and then the Italian pushed in slowly. Prussia let out a strangled gasp; pain immediately shooting up his spine. Romano moved rather slowly with his thrusts at first, causing the Prussian to swear loudly in complaint.

The Italian tch'ed, but finally began to pick up the pace. Prussia had never been on the receiving end before, but even he could tell that Romano didn't know what he was doing. Every thrust was at a different angle, searching. Prussia waited impatiently, biting on his bottom lip until he tasted blood, for the Italian to find his sweet spot. It took Romano over a dozen tries, but he finally brushed across Prussia's prostate.

Prussia let out an involuntary moan of pleasure as Romano finally hit the right spot. Very soon the Prussian was seeing stars, as Romano aimed for, and at least brushed against, that same spot with every subsequent thrust. At first Prussia thought he was missing on purpose, but he eventually concluded that it was out of inexperience rather than spite. Even with the non-consistent thrusts, Prussia felt himself getting close.

Romano came first. Prussia felt himself being filled with warm semen, and that pushed him over the edge as well. The two of them rode out their orgasms almost simultaneously. Romano then collapsed on top of Prussia, panting. And after his eyes cleared of their haze, Prussia chuckled at him.

"Tired, Lovi?" he asked, voice sultry.

"I am not," Romano grumbled, sounding exhausted, "S...shut up... bastard."

He was even too tired to get angry properly. How cute!

Prussia slid the tie blindfold off of his head, and put his arms back to support the sleepy Italian before standing up. He hoisted the boy up and out, so that he was piggyback style. Being rather tired himself, the Prussian only walked far enough to lay the sleepy Italian in bed before collapsing next to him. They both lay silently for a moment with Romano curled into Prussia's form. Prussia stroked Romano's hair lazily for a moment.

"Hey, Lovi?" Prussia mumbled.

"Che palle. What is it, you bastard?" Romano grumbled sleepily.

"Can we do it like that again sometime?" Prussia asked.

"Hnn." Romano murmured, "We have all week."

Prussia would never admit to anyone that he rather enjoyed not being on top.


End file.
